


Magical Mishaps

by riverray



Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin BBC
Genre: Arthur is an understanding father, Everyone knows about Merlin's magic, Family Fluff, Gaius is a tired grandpa, Gen, Merlin is a good uncle, or trying to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26003152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverray/pseuds/riverray
Summary: Merlin teaches Arthur's son magic. Nothing could possibly ever go wrong.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106





	Magical Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote 'The Little Prince' cause I wanted to visualize Merlin with a little baby but then somebody commented on it about Merlin driving Arthur nuts when he teaches the prince magic and it sounded really fun to write. Not sure if it's as fun to read. Apologies for any bad grammar or spelling or if things don't add up/make sense. I re-read as much as I could but you can only read your own work so many times before you want to throw your laptop and then yourself out a window. 
> 
> I originally had this up as a second chapter but decided to just post it on it's own since I didn't want to mess with the summary and whatever of the first story.

If one more nobleman looks at him as though he has three heads, Arthur was going to lose it. Here he was, dedicating his time to attend a meeting with the kings and lords of outlying lands who were unfortunate enough to be suffering from this year’s horrible drought, trying his damnedest to figure out how he could spare any of Camelot’s already tight resources and they couldn’t even have the decency to look him in the eye. 

Arthur makes quick eye contact with Lord Vortigern’s young son who sits a few men down to make a point to himself and low and behold the boy lets out a silent gasp as he quickly looks away, cheeks flushing. And honestly, Arthur has had quite enough. King Darian continues to prattle on, sneaking nervous glances Arthur’s way but stuttering and dropping his gaze quickly to his empty goblet when Arthur pins him with his own gaze. It takes every bit of self control Arthur has to not slam his hands on the table and demand these men start treating him with more integrity. But he remembers the many, many times he’s sat in similar meetings alongside his father, much like Lord Vortigern’s son is doing now, and how crucial it was to keep a level head. So, instead, Arthur takes deep breaths, nods when appropriate, speaks up when it’s his turn, and, in the end, offers the services of his kingdom no matter how much he doesn’t want to, given the noblemen’s blatant disregard for respect and all. Arthur tells himself their people don’t deserve to suffer for their leader’s incompetence. 

By the end he seals the deal with wrist grabs and formalities, promising to send whatever supplies he can within reason along with able body men and women. When the lords and kings leave his council hall they all seem to be weary, perhaps a little uncomfortable, as they bid their farewells, their glances lingering when they think Arthur’s not looking. 

But they’re the donkey’s ass because he certainly DOES see! He covers his face with his hands, rubbing his tired eyes as if he could erase the whole time he had spent in there as he turns to head to his chambers to hopefully just wash it all away. But he hears the gentle voice of his wife saying his name and he can hear the smile in her voice before he even uncovers his face. 

But when he does, Guinevere isn’t smiling for very long before she gasps in horror and covers her mouth. Arthur panics now, “what?!” he demands, reaching out for her but she backs up just the slightest. 

“Arthur!” she says to him, sounding so appalled, “what….” Gwen pauses before a wobbly smile breaks out on her face and she begins to laugh. Arthur was frustrated before but now he’s just fed up. “Guinevere, please!” he hates to hear himself sounding so childish, “what is going on?! Everyone is acting so strange today!”

Gwen chews the bottom of her lip to stop from laughing and looks around when she sees a maid carrying a plate of food and a pitcher. She grabs the pitcher, never minding the displeased maid as she puts it up to her husband’s face. 

Arthur’s confused but looks at his reflection in the pitcher. And suddenly it all makes sense. The looks, the hidden smirks, the nervousness, the uncomfortable squirming of the noblemen. What Arthur sees staring back at him are large, bright red spots all over his face.  
It’s his turn to gasp as he takes the pitcher from his wife’s hands and holds it close to his face. He reaches up, touches the spots with his fingers, rubs to get them off but somehow just ends up making them seem more red. 

“How did- what are- was this here the whole time?!” He finally explodes, almost as if poor Gwen had put the spots on his face. Gwen takes pity on him, “I’m not sure, darling. I didn’t see them there this morning.”

“How bad does it look?! Be honest!”

Gwen bites her lip again and that’s all Arthur needs to know. He fumbles for words, thinking of how stupid and probably diseased he must’ve looked to his fellow kings and lords. Oh, for heaven's sake he must’ve looked like a mad man! He doesn’t understand how this could happen, how he’d suddenly get ridiculous looking spots all over his-

His thoughts come to a sudden halt.

“Arthur?” Gwen asks gently but Arthur just glares, “Merlin!”

Merlin is dead. Court Sorcerer or not. Greatest Warlock to ever stumble around the earth or not. Arthur’s best friend or not. Hell, Camelot’s savior OR NOT, Merlin is dead. As Arthur marches down the castle corridors, he’s thinking of ways to get back at the warlock. Ever since Arthur has found out about Merlin’s magic and allowed for magic to not only be accepted but brought back to Camelot the insufferable magic man or sorcerer or whatever he is has grown quite too fond of using his little magic ways to get under Arthur’s skin. Granted, Arthur will never admit that the most irritating part is that Arthur can never seem to quite get revenge to the same caliber as Merlin. He’ll never say it out loud, but sometimes he truly wished he could just magically snap his fingers and cause Merlin some great, public display of embarrassment.

Arthur busts through the door of Merlin and Gaius’s chamber, allowing it to slam against the wall and his eyes zero in on Merlin who’s innocently sitting at the table, all different types of herbs and flowers spread out before him. Arthur marches in, taking in the alarm and confusion on Merlin’s face but never caring as he shoves a finger so close to the warlock’s nose Merlin goes cross eyed for a second. 

“You!” Arthur seethes and Merlin is about to reply before a little brown haired, blue eyed boy pops out from the warlock’s other side. “Hi papa!” Amarius greets cheerfully, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

Arthur’s anger dissipates a little at the sight of his son and his eyes dart between the two of them, “Amari what- what are you doing?” 

“Organizing herbs with uncle Merlin, see!” the little boy holds up the flowers in his hands. Simple daisies that have never really meant much more to anyone but Merlin. Arthur looks quizzically at his warlock and Merlin already knows the question in Arthur’s eyes without the King having to say it and he whispers, “let the kid have this, it was the only thing he could find.” 

Arthur nods once, “very good Amari. I’m sure Gauis was running out of Daisies.” 

“How could I ever when I get them as gifts almost every day,” says Gauis dryly from the workbench off to the side and his voice startles Arthur a bit. In his anger he hadn’t even noticed the old physician when he came stomping in. He looks to see Gauis gesturing to all the daisies the old man has hung on his wall, some old and withering and some fresh as though they were picked today. And Arthur supposes they were. 

But that’s beside the point. There are still ridiculous red spots upon Arthur’s face and Merlin was going to fix it AND pay for it! The king turns back to the warlock and tries not to yell when he points to the red spots and says, “this… is punishable, Merlin, do you fancy a trip to the stocks?”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, shaking his head, “I didn’t cause that are you sure you’re not sick or something? Oi, Gauis, check out Arthur’s face. Is it contagious?”

“Contag- Merlin!” Arthur exclaims, throwing his arms out, “my face was fine before I went into my meeting and covered in ridiculous red spots when I came out! Do you understand what this kind of thing says about me? About Camelot?! Every King north of us thinks I’m either a buffoon or struck with some hideous sickness.” 

Merlin squints at him, tilting his head a bit, “can’t blame the buffoon bit on the red spots, unfortunately-”

“Merlin!”

“-I swear Arthur, it wasn’t me!” Merlin throws his hands up for good measure and Arthur glares at him. Merlin may be a lot of things but a good liar? That is not one of them and suddenly Arthur is feeling inclined to believe him. He crosses his arms over his chest, staring Merlin down, waiting to see if the warlock would slip up and relent but Merlin doesn’t. 

Arthur sags, “then why are there sudden red spots all over my face? I look like the court jester!” 

“Don’t insult Erec like that,” Merlin says softly and if his son wasn’t sitting right there Arthur would’ve slapped Merlin upside the head.

“Sire, if I may,” Gaius says, walking up to Arthur and taking his face between his hands as the physician turns it from one side to the other, taking a good look at the spots, 

“what did you last eat?” 

“Nothing out of the usual, Gaius, I haven’t done anything out of the usual.” 

“How do you feel?”

“Like an idiot. I sat through a very important gathering like this. How am I going to-”

“It was me,” a little voice interrupts and all three men turn to face Amarius who’s still sitting beside Merlin at the table, looking small with his hands over his mouth. He drops them slowly to reveal he’s biting his bottom lip, much like his mother does. 

“I’m sorry Papa, I didn’t mean to make you look like Erec.” 

“You-... Amarius, what?” Arthur asks, truly dumbfounded.

“I was trying new spells I learned,” the boy answers truthfully and a little cheerfully though he hunkers down a bit when he realizes his father isn’t as enthusiastic as he is. 

It was no secret Merlin was teaching the young prince magic. Merlin had begged Arthur when Amarius was merely a year old and completely drawn to Merlin’s magic. While the prince hadn’t been born with magic like Merlin, the boy had an yearning for it stronger than most. And he took to it like a fish takes to water. What took many men years to master took Amarius months. If that. The boy was moving things in no time and learning some spells as though it were the words he had heard all his life. While Guinevere found the whole thing rather endearing and fascinating Arthur was still quite reluctant about it. Magic had been something he was taught to hate his whole life. Taught to fear. And here he was, years after his father’s passing, watching as his son learnt it as if it were second nature. 

Sometimes he wondered what Uther would do if he ever knew his grandson and the future King of Camelot was born of a servant girl and taught magic by the most powerful warlock of all. 

It made Arthur shutter to think of the possibilities. 

Usually Amarius was pretty subtle with his magic. Performing simple, innocent tricks like moving small objects with just words and glowy eyes or turning bread into… two more pieces of bread.

Armarius was quite proud of that one and Guinevere had to nudge Arthur to get him to applaud their son’s actions. Arthur wasn’t meaning to be unenthused he just thought cutting the bread up with a knife would’ve done the job just fine. And a little quicker given Amarius’s habit of getting that particular spell wrong the first 10 times. Arthur was growing hungrier by every stutter his young son tried to get out. 

Recently, Amarius had teamed up with Merlin in a little two on one for some magical mishaps against Arthur. Nothing too big or too serious. Just simple pranks like making Arthur’s slippers walk away on him when he was just getting out of bed or summoning a gust of wind to come up behind him and cause his cape to flap over his face. Really, the pranks were quite innocent but Arthur always made sure to put on a show of distress to get his son laughing. 

But this. This was too far. And Arthur most certainly was not laughing. 

Through gritted teeth the King asks, “Merlin, may I see you out in the hall for a moment?”

Merlin almost rolls his eyes, almost. But instead he gives a quick nod and stands up, handing his single daisy to Amarius who takes it and looks up to Merlin with his big blue eyes and a pout, “I’m sorry,” he mouths to the warlock and Merlin gives him a secretive grin and wink before mouthing back, “it’s okay.”

Arthur’s already at the opened door when Merlin steps away from the bench and he steps out into the hallway with Arthur glaring at him. Arthur avoids looking at Gaius and his son, shutting the door a bit loudly behind him. 

When Arthur faces Merlin the warlock is staring back at him with his hands behind his back and his chin tilted up just a bit, obviously ready to take the lecture Arthur is about to throw at him. 

Arthur puts his hands on his hips, glaring at Merlin once more, deciding he will let the warlock explain himself instead. “When you’re ready,” he says calmly and Merlin cocks his head, “what?”

“Well, aren’t you going to explain yourself?”

“Aren’t you going to just start yelling? It’s what you’re good at.”

“I am not!” Arthur yells and immediately realizes his blunder. Merlin raises his eyebrows, “do go on.”

“Oh shut up, you can’t possibly try making me feel bad here Merlin, look at my face! I had to sit in front of many important men looking like this. Why would you teach my son such a spell?”

“I didn’t! I don’t know where he learned that. I didn’t even know there was such a spell.”

“So you’re telling me Amarius just learned this on his own?”

Merlin shakes his head and shrugs, looking confused, “I don’t know Arthur. Perhaps he was trying something else, messed up, and ended up with… that result. It’s happened to me.” 

“You magically caused someone’s face to be covered in red spots?” Arthur asks tauntingly, obviously not buying it. Merlin sighs, “no. Of course not. But spells are tricky. You have to say every word exactly as they’re intended. If not it won’t work or… well… you end up with something else.”

Arthur scoffs, “I can’t even begin to imagine what he was trying to do. This is just absolutely ridiculous. I’ve been pretty lenient with your guys’ trickery but I can’t put up with this. You have to keep a better handle on his magic. I’m going to lose my head if stuff like this keeps up. And it could be quite literally!”

Merlin nods, looking down, trying to hide a smirk but Arthur sees it out of the corner of his eye, “truly, Merlin. This isn’t a time to be laughing.”

Merlin chuckles, turning away, “have you seen yourself? It’s a little funny.”

“It is not!”

“Right. Not funny.” Merlin states seriously, swiping flattened hands one over the other in an all done gesture. They stare at each other for a moment, Arthur waiting to see if Merlin can keep the straight face. And just as the king expected his warlock can not. The younger man breaks out in a wide smile and lets out a breathy laugh as he quickly covers his face with one hand. 

“The last time I’d seen you this ridiculous was when you had donkey ears.”

Arthur scoffs again, rolling his eyes, “thought I banned you from ever bringing that up.” 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin huffs out of a laugh, rubbing his eye and for a moment Arthur smiles too. He reaches out to squeeze Merlin’s shoulder, perhaps a little too roughly when the warlock hisses and tries to drop his shoulder away from the King’s grasp but Arthur hangs on. 

“Teach my boy proper magic, will you?”

“Yes Sire.”

“And take these spots off my face. At once.”

“Sure thing, Sire.” Arthur releases Merlin’s shoulder and the warlock straightens up before he takes a deep breath, his eyes turn gold, and then… nothing.

“Are they gone?” Arthur asks once Merlin’s eyes go back to their gentle blue. Merlin smiles and nods, “back to your ugly old self, Sire.”

Arthur smirks, smacking Merlin playfully on the back of his head as he passes, “if I return to my chambers to see they’re still there I will not hesitate to put you in the cell for the night.” 

“Fair enough,” Merlin replies, rubbing his head. 

“And when the two of you are done… playing with daisies… send my son up.” 

“I will.” 

And with that Arthur marches off and Merlin returns back to his and Gaius’s room. When he opens the door it's to the old physician sitting at the table across from the young prince who is busy at work tying his daisies together, his tongue poked out in concentration as he goes. Gaius also has daisies in his hands but they’re barely strung together and the old man looks entirely too confused. 

“How ya coming there, Gaius?” Amarius asks in his little voice as he finishes up his work. 

Gaius raises an eyebrow and lifts his daisies as they fall apart, “not good, young sire.”

“What are you two doing?”

Amarius’s head snaps up at the sound of Merlin’s voice and he jumps out of his seat and runs up to the warlock, “what did Papa do to you?!” he asks in concern. Merlin chuckles, “banished, I’m afraid. You’ll have to rely on Gaius for further magic lessons.”

Amarius looks absolutely horrified as he slaps his little hands to cheeks, “what?!”

“I’m joking,” Merlin quickly says, squatting down in front of the little prince with a smile, “I took the spots off and your father is fine. But you, little Sire, can not cast spells without an adult. Preferably without me. It’s easy to mess them up and you got lucky your little mistake was an easy fix.”

Amarius looks down, his bottom lip sticking out just a bit as he mumbles, “I’m sorry, Uncle Merlin. I didn’t mean to turn Papa’s face like that.” 

“I know,” Merlin tells him, “I think. What were you trying to do?”

Amari looks up at him bashfully and bites his lip before saying, “this morning, before his big meeting thing, he told Mother he needed to look nice for the other kings. A-and when Mother wants to look nice she puts all that stuff on her face.”

“Stuff on her face?”

“Ya know, like powder and lip goo?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, I dunno, I thought, maybe, Papa could use it too.” 

Merlin stares at Amarius for a moment, not saying anything as he takes in the little boy’s explanation that seemed so honest and innocent. The warlock breaks out in a huge smile and a fit of chuckles, “you thought you were doing something nice for Papa?”

Amarius nods, confusion clouding his little features, “I’m sorry?”

Merlin shakes his head, grabbing the little boy by his shoulders and shaking him gently, “you’re a little charm, aren’t you?” 

Amarius smiles back, blushing at the compliment as he shrugs. Merlin takes on a serious expression, pointing a finger at the boy as he says, “but no more unsupervised magic. And if you want to do something sweet for anyone come to me first. Even the most gentle spells can turn harmful.”

Amarius nods again, “got it.”

“Good.”

“I made you something!” The boy quickly says, startling Merlin a bit as he breaks away from the warlock and darts back to the table. He shoots Gaius a little glare when he sees the physician hasn’t finished his daisy project, “almost there, Gaius, you got this.” 

The physician furrows his brow.

Amarius grabs what appears to be a little ring of flowers tied together and hurries it back to Merlin, holding it up to him proudly, “for you! To say I’m sorry.”

Merlin takes it gently, admiring the quick work Amari had done. He sends the little boy an appreciative grin, “it’s beautiful, I’ll keep it forever.”

“Really?” Amarius asks with big, hopeful eyes. Merlin nods. “Put it on, uncle Merlin!”

Merlin plops the daisy crown on top of his head, “how does it fit?”

“Good,” Amarius says but steps forward to adjust it himself, “better.” The boy steps back and smiles with pride, “crowned Court Sorcerer of Camelot!”

“Cheers,” Merlin chuckles and pinches the boy’s side playfully. Amarius giggles, “I made one for Papa too. Well, Gaius did.” The boy sends the physician a weary glance, “or was supposed to.”

Amari hurries back over and takes the barely made daisy crown from Gaius’s hands, “don’t worry Gaius,” Amarius tells him gently, “I’ll take it from here.” 

“Yes, perhaps you should,” Gaius admits.

Merlin stands up, making sure the crown stays upon his head as he walks over to place a hand on Amarius’s shoulder, “why don’t you head up to your father’s chamber, he’d like to speak to you and I think Gaius could use a break.” 

Amarius sighs as he gathers up his daisies, “Papa’s mad?”

“I think he’d just like to tell you what I told you.”

“Fair enough,” Amarius nods, “maybe the crown will make it a little better.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Merlin agrees and the prince hugs him around the legs, Merlin patting his back gently before encouraging him out, “off you go, make sure the crown is just right.”

“I will! Bye Gaius!” Amarius waves at them as he hurries out, Merlin following him to shut the door. 

When it’s just him and Gaius the old man stands up and shakes his head, “you spoil the boy.” 

Merlin scoffs, “and you don’t? Never took you for a daisy crown maker.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t even quite sure what he was asking. My fingers aren’t as nimble as they used to be.” 

Merlin smiles softly, “you never tell him no.” 

“I couldn’t with his father either,” Gaius admits more so to himself as he walks slowly back over to his pile of herbs, “or with you. Something about the eyes.” 

Merlin shrugged and nodded, figuring he could relate. There had been countless times before he had a hard time saying no when those Pendragon blue eyes were pleading with him otherwise. 

Come dinner time that night, Merlin wore his daisy crown proudly for Amarius’s sake. He had taken some hits for it, mainly from the knights when they saw it a few hours earlier. Gwaine and Elyan especially found great joy in teasing him. Gwaine had tossed him around a bit playfully, throwing an arm around his neck and adjusting the daisy crown, calling Merlin pretty in flowers. 

It didn’t bother Merlin one bit. “An honorable gift from the young Prince himself,” he had told Gwaine with a grin and Leon chuckled, “you and Arthur both I see.” 

“Is he wearing his?” Merlin asked, genuinely curious. Leon looked tickled as he nodded, “by orders of the prince.”

A little while later, Merlin snuck away into the kitchen, grabbing the King’s dinner plate from a servant with a wink. While he wasn’t necessarily Arthur’s manservant anymore that didn’t mean he gave up all duties, no matter how many times Arthur had told him to. He still found a bit of fun in his old job. 

He had opened the big doors to the dining room when he saw Arthur seated at the head of table, looking a bit miffed but compliant as he sat with the same daisy crown as Merlin’s on his head. When Arthur looked up to see Merlin he rolled his eyes and covered his face. 

“Would you look at that,” Merlin exclaims, gaining both Guinevere and Amarius’s attention as he marches to the dining table, smiling big at Arthur, “fancy seeing you like this, Arthur. I believe we’re matching.” 

“Go away.”

“Sit next to me, uncle Merlin!” Amarius waves to the seat next to him eagerly. Merlin gives him a smile as he sets Arthur’s plate down in front of him, turning to Gwen with a slight bow, “my Lady.” 

Gwen’s looking up at him entirely too amused, “you both got such pretty crowns and I have to miss out?” 

“Perhaps next time Amarius gathers more herbs you’ll get yours,” Merlin assures her sweetly and Arthur rolls his eyes yet again. “Are you quite done?” 

Merlin glances down at him, “I think I’ll stay.”

Amarius cheers and pats to the empty seat next to him again and Merlin happily takes it, sharing giggles and smiles with the prince as servants bring out more food. Guinevere smiles at the two of them before looking at Arthur who, despite himself, smiles back. Eventually Gaius shows up and takes a seat and some of the knights join in when Amarius begins to invite the whole castle in as they pass in the hall. Arthur says nothing against it. Listening in as Amari promises them all some daisy crowns, a smile never leaving his face.

He’s happiest with his family. All of them.


End file.
